


To Be A God

by AutumnMelon



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Blood and Injury, Exile, Insane Wilbur Soot, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Please be careful!!, Pre-Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Religions, Religious Content, There are religious themes in this story, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Swears (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, village
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:13:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28622346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutumnMelon/pseuds/AutumnMelon
Summary: What if Tommy and Wilbur stumbled upon a village instead of living in a ravine?Heavily inspired by DreamBirds711 's work, please go read theirs, it's a lot better then mine.(RELIGIOUS THEMES! PLEASE DO NOT READ IF UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THAT)
Relationships: None, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 9
Kudos: 130





	1. What the fuck?

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Tough Luck](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27210895) by [DreamBird711](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamBird711/pseuds/DreamBird711). 



> I feel dead inside.

Tommy and Wilbur ran.

The election--that they were suppose to win--caused them to become exiled, revoked of citizenship.

So they ran. Ran away from the arrows that flew towards them, one even hitting Wilbur, injuring his arm. No plan were in their minds, they hadn't planned for this; Tommy hadn't planned for this, to be driven out of his home while being chased by people who wanted to kill him. He had fought for his country, and followed Wilbur's lead.

But, he never knew it would end up getting him thrown out by the new president.

After, maybe hours of running and the number of people chasing them decreasing to zero, Tommy slowed to a stop. His lungs burned and his legs ached, the chilly air did nothing to help besides cool the sweat of him. Resting his hands on his knees to try to catch his breath, he tried to ignore how he trembled.

He had just lost his home, how could he not? The nation he and his older brother founded together, where the just wanted to make drugs in peace. And his best friend, Tubbo had decided to stay back and watch, stay on Schlatt's side. The man who Tommy admired, invited into the lands as a visitor. Showed him L'manberg with pride in his heart. But now, it is just Manberg, and an evil dictator.

"Tommy," Called boy stood up to look at his brother. Wilbur stood hunched over slightly--which was a sight barely seen of his brother since he always took pride into being a general--clutching his shoulder where he was shot with his hand. Blood seeped through his uniform, the red substance covering his hand. The would have to patch it up later, they didn't have the supplies now. Tommy, breathing now more even to speak coherently, spoke bitterly, "What, Wilbur?"

He wasn't necessarily bitter at Wilbur, for the most part, just at the recent events. Luckily, the brunette picked up on that. He took a breath before speaking, "W-We need to get back L'manberg." Tommy couldn't read his expression, but could tell by the way his hands shook, Wilbur was uneasy. His normally clear voice took a hoarse tone, but Tommy didn't comment.

The younger nodded in response, a look of determination and anger on his face. "Yeah, we do."

They ended the short conversation there, nothing else wanting to be said. They walked, getting further and further from 'Manberg'. Such a stupid name, unoriginal too, the L made it classy.

Barely any light broke though the trees, dense, unfamiliar trees surrounded them. The temperature decreased too, making Tommy pull his uniform a little closer. They must be really far away.

How long were they running?

Wilbur winced every once in a while, putting pressure on his wound to keep blood in. It was probably worse than he let on, especially since he had ripped out the arrow himself.

Tommy tripped over a tree root, letting out a few colourful words for his hurt ankle before Wilbur shushed him. Pain temporarily forgotten, he whipped his head back to insult his brother for quieting him, but then that was forgotten as well. Brown eyes narrowed as the brunette tilted his head, a concentrated look on his face. "Do you hear that?" The blonde furrowed his eyebrows, straining his ears, and he did, in fact, he something. Though, he couldn't tell as to what, as it was faint and distant.

"I think it might be a village," He pause to look at Tommy who stayed quiet. "We should head there."

"What?" Tommy suddenly exclaimed, bewildered. "Why?" Wilbur gave a sigh, and if he wasn't busy with his hands, he'd probably facepalm. "We just got exiled, Tommy. We need supplies,"

"Oh, right,"

They walked their way towards the source of the sound, Wilbur hurrying to get there while Tommy was reluctant. But as Tommy got closer, he was able to tell that Wilbur was spot on the money; It was a village.

The chatter was louder but still uncoherent and a path was now in tow. Following the path, they soon found the village houses. But they were empty, and the crowd was further in. Tommy looked to the side for his brothers concerns, but found him already strutting forward.

For some reason, Tommy felt a pit growing in his stomach. Not voicing his worries like always, the boy caught up with the older.

Sure enough, people were in view as he rounded the corner, gathered together in the town square. A man stood on a podium in the crowd, talking in a different language. It was a rougher language, one he didn't recognize. Tommy stopped and didn't continue further, in favor of observing the strange scene. Wilbur must not have noticed since he went up to someone on the far ends of the herd.

He watched as his brother cleared his throat, getting the attention of a young woman. She had blonde hair in a braid with an old-looking dress on. Not dirty or ragged, just old. "Excuse me, miss-" Wilbur tried but was cut short by a scream.

Coming from that woman...

She backed away, pointing with the index finger of her left hand at the two brothers. Tommy's eyes widened, "Shit, Wil-" This must be a village that doesn't like outsiders. There's few that don't appreciate people from other towns or lands coming to them, they're rare, but real.

Everyone's gaze turned to on them. Eyes widened as gasps echoed through the now silent town. Wilbur backed away slowly, hand clutching the arrow wound a little tighter.

The man on the podium stepped down, his brown eyes trained them- no...him.

The closer he came, the more Tommy realized, their eye were on him. Only glancing at Wilbur. "I-I'm sorry," Wilbur spoke, stopping next to the younger blonde. "We'll leave, we didn't mean to interrupt." The man stopped in front to the two, putting a hand up to stop Wilbur's apology, but other then that, payed no mind to the brunette.

Tommy noticed a pendant around the mans neck, draping over his coat. It looked to be in a horizontal square shape, made of some sort of metal. He wore a buttoned brown coat and black pants with leather boots. The light brown eyes sparkled almost unnaturally, they looked to be dull and hopeless but gazed over in admiration. Weird.

Wilbur, noticing how everyone was looking at his younger brother, stepped in front of him in a protective way, a hardened look on his face. When the man's look was forced to the other, their eyes widened scrambled to get down on the cobblestone ground. On his hands and knees.

He was kneeling?

Soon after, the rest of the towns people followed, kneeling. But not like they would to a king, no, it was like they were kneeling to a God, showing respect. The man raised his hands above his head, put his hands next to each other and connecting his thumbs. He was making the shape of his necklace.

"Wh-what," Tommy stumbled out, for once at a loss of words. No village had done this before, either treat them friendly or try to run them out.

Wilbur stepped back once more, confusion setting in through his hazy mind. The man knelling before him spoke, harsh English but audible. "My _lord_ , forgive us for our rudeness."

What. The. Fuck.


	2. Expensive Shit, Damn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No idea how to summarizes this sooo,
> 
> Tommy's mind go brr and the people want to celebrate him, ig.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so fuking tired bro, just listening to Ricky Montgomery while laying on my floor and writing hurts my health.
> 
> Also I got inspired by some fanart someone made that I found on Pinterest. I don't know who made it exactly, but the watermark says "NAE RUNS" so, kudos to them. And let me know if you know them so I can properly credit them!

Tommy looked up at what was the temple--it's not his, is it? The quarts and ore's that made it up shined under the bright sun of that day. The people silently awaited to when he'd step in, wanting to know if their building was good enough. But all Tommy could do was stand and stare; it was so cool!

Lapis and gold and emerald made up the contrasts of the white only found in the nether. Stairs and slabs, and end rod's? _Where did they get those...?_

The temple stood out from the rest of the buildings, cobble--which Tommy would honestly love a temple made of--and wood, but this was all stuff you had to venture out for; mine for.

He felt an elbow jab into him, and he tore his gaze away to face Wilbur with an eyebrow raised. A smile was on the mans lips as his eyes did all the talking for him. The sparkle and glaze of them gave Tommy uneasiness about all that's happened. Maybe it was from the blood loss why Wilbur looks like that- _Right, they want me to go in._

He took one step, then another, and then another, ascending up the steps. Wilbur followed before getting stopped by a hand, to which Tommy paused and looked back. He's shocked when the man from before--Otter, or whatever--placing himself in front of Wilbur with others on looking.

"Sire," Otto--was that his name?--spoke, "Would you like me to remove this man?"

A yell was on the tip of Tommy's tongue, _what does remove exactly mean?_ But a quick glare from Wilbur shut that door, a silent "don't fuck this up" clear in his eyes. "Uh, no- no, no, no," He spoke in panic, unable to get the rights words. He spewed out, "He's my personal attendant." He regretted the sentence as soon as it came out of his mouth.

The pendent-wearing man backed up and bowed, "Right, I apologize, lord."

Tommy just nodded and continued up the stairs with a forced straight face, painfully aware of his brother following him, but the smile on the brunettes lips was unknown.

____________________

The floor of the temple was cold, Tommy noticed as he put his bare feet against it. The rickety shoes of his uniform were scuffed and had holes worn into the toes--constant running and explosions would do that do that to 'em.

He took back his foot quickly, hugging his leg to his chest. How was he suppose to change when he couldn't even stand on the bare floor. _Don't they have heaters in this fucking weird ass place,_ he scowled.

But the blonde was quick to drop the attitude. The bed he sat upon was almost soft enough to make him forget about all his worries. Almost.

He laid back, his leg bent to fit on the bed while his other, still shoed, one rested on the floor. The sheets under him were made of fur, the softest he'd felt in a while. He wanted to melt and succumb to the lassitude that surrounded him.

The hard gold-coloured parts on his shoulders of his L'manberg uniform dug into the mattress and into his arms, but it didn't bother him, he'd grown used to it as the wars came and pasted.

Technoblade was the god, maybe that's why they're saying he's a god, Tommy us technically related to one. And when they were younger, Tommy would steal his brothers 'cape' and crown and wear them just to piss off Techno. But then again, they're not blood-related.

He opened his eyes--he didn't even notice when they closed--he heaved himself up into a sitting position. He was given clothes, fresh and newly sewn, a dress shirt and pants with a cloak of sorts. It wasn't like Techno's at all, coloured white with touches of green and yellow--presumably emerald and gold that's been thinned out; or, however they make clothes.

Of course it'd be nice to change into something more comfortable, but these were a little formal.

The opening of the door awoke him from his thoughts.

There stood Wilbur, in new clothes and a bandaged arm. He wore the his own old, tattered up, brown coat with a new beanie, dark pants and a black shirt. His eyes seemed to droop from exhaustion but the brown orbs sparkles with something unseen.

"What're you doing?" He asked, looking the blonde head to foot.

Tommy just rolled his eyes, "Thinking, dickhead."

His brother just nodded at that, unfazed as his eyes wondered the room. They stopped at mirror on the far wall. Gold surrounded the reflective surface in intricate patterns, with--what seemed to be netherite--adding a contrast.

It was certainly pleasing to look at.

Very…

"Get ready," Tommy jumped at the sudden spoken words and tore his eyes away to look back at Wilbur. "Why?" He asked.

Wilbur crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway, "They want to uphold a ceremony for you, and since I'm your only personal, they informed me to inform you." He shrugged carelessly, like this was a causal situation. Oh yeah, people normally throw parties for random people declared to be a god, Tommy wanted to roll his eyes.

The man just chuckles, practically reading his little brothers thoughts. "Get dressed, it'll start at dusk." And he walked away, not bothering to close the door. Fucker.

____________________

The clothes were snug on him, fitting nicely around his thin figure. And as he made his way out, dusk approaching, he ran into the one and only… Wilbur.

The man raised a brow and wore an amused smile, "Nice outfit,"

"Fuck off," Tommy gave him the flick of his middle finger, which was gloved in a cream coloured glove. They were just dyed leather, but still quite uncomfortable to him.

He walked past his brother quickly, boots tapping loudly, it gave him some sort of a dramatic effect, he thought.

Pushing the big doors open with minimal effort, light flooded over him, the leftover sunshine igniting his vision. People cheered from the bottom of the steps and from the roads as Tommy stood over them. 

He could hear his brother step behind him, but it was soon drowned out by the excited crowd.

The blonde gave a breathless laugh.

Wow. 

_This feeling is great._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave comments please, I need some kind of serotonin.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In /NO/ way am I trying to be disrespectful towards religious people or believers in God!! This is just a story and it does /NOT/ hold any of my feelings towards religious themes.

Lanterns swung gently with the subtle breeze that passed through as Tommy stepped down, meeting Otto, who was newly dressed in a robe, and a few others dressed in the same way. Clean white cotton covered them, the sleeves having something written on them in small print so Tommy couldn't make it out. They stood next to a microphone. 

The brown-haired man bowed at the waist, his hands going up in the diamond symbol he made before. Others did the same but, on their knees, woman on both like they were sitting, and men propped up on one leg like how you would to a king. 

It filled Tommy with some sort of feeling, a feeling of importance and authority. He decided he liked this feeling. 

"Lord..." Otto stumbled, slightly. _Right, they_ _didn't_ _know his name._ _How had he_ _accomplished_ _that?_

"Tommy," The boy spoke clearly and loudly. But not how he used to, this time, he spoke with a purpose. His voice echoed in the speakers around town. 

The older man repeated, "Lord Tommy, will you grace us with your presence and show us the leadership and light?" 

Tommy stood silent, cyan eyes on the ground his feet walked upon. He walked the same ground as these people, and although he wanted to be knew he was of importance to this town, it felt wrong. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out, the words sour on his tongue. 

  


His eyes wondered to the people before him, some had tears streaking their face, and some had sweat rolling down from the intensity of this situation that was in the air. 

Breathing through his teeth he narrowed his eyes, a harden look on his face. He couldn't lie to these people. They needed a savior, not some teenager that was just exiled along with his brother. 

Tommy had been in a revolutionary war, he knew how to play dirty, how it felt to be betrayed, and how his own blood felt on his hands. An arrow lodged into his ribs, the gunpower of TNT in his lungs, how a sword felt both in his hands and one through his stomach. 

Sweat beaded over his forehead. He wasn't holy. He clenched his fists. He was nothing more than a man with terrors in his mind. 

A hand rested on his shoulder. Tommy jumped out of his thoughts and glanced over. It was Wilbur. 

The man came close, his breath ghosting over his ear, "Grace them, Tommy." 

The grip tightened. 

"Say yes," 

"I will," Tommy announced to the people and his brother backed away. Few people in the crowd let out a cry of relief while others dropped the diamond pose to embrace their children or loved ones. 

Otto's hands shook as he muttered a few thank you's before clearing his throat and standing up straight. Others followed, standing and whipping tears or smiling brightly. 

"Will you give us a speech?" He asked a smile wide on his face. 

"I-" Tommy stopped himself, _a speech?_ "Yes," He forced a smile upon his face, and knowing him, it probably looked a little awkward, but no one commented on it. Otto bowed quickly before turning back announcing to the people something he didn't quite understand. 

One of the other robed people noticed, and spoke lowly but in a respectful tone, "He's saying you'll be giving a speech and that they should listen carefully." Tommy noticed that the person was a female when he turned to her. Poggers. 

Brown hair draping over her shoulders and a frizzy mess, her make up slightly smudged from the heat. Her emerald-looking earrings sparkled in the dim light left over of the day. He nodded and mumbled a thank you. She seemed delighted to be of help. 

Soon, Tommy took the stand, biting his tongue in sure to be tame. He'd never admit it, but this put him on edge. 

He cleared his throat and it echoed, he sounded like JSchlatt; an expression left his face as soon as it came. 

He took a deep breath, he could surely come up with something on the spot, that's who he was. Tommy put a grin on his face, "First, I'd like to say--" 

The speech was short and a tad bit awkward, but the people cheered and cried out once he finished. 

The blonde boy breathed a subtle sigh of relief and waved. He felt more royal than anything. 

A man steps next to him, dressed in another one of those robes but he seemed noticeable younger than the others. He bowed his head for a moment before picking it up, "Lord may I-" he could continue, Tommy interrupted, "Name." He boomed. 

Holy shit did that sound cool. Tommy was badass now; he could interrupt people and be demanding and shit. 

He stuttered, "Quinn," Quinn spoke. 

The _God_ nodded, "Continue," 

"May I ask of you to say why you came now...?" "Quinn!" Someone hissed from the crowd and the boy's eyes widened beyond possible. 

"No, no, no, nono," He spewed out as the crowd watched. Tommy felt slightly bad for the boy, now he'd have to live with this embarrassment. 

Tommy put up a hand signaling for him to stop, and Quinn shut up _real damn_ _fast-_

After a beat of silence Tommy again signaled his hand for him to talk. 

"Right," He muttered and cleared his throat, "Why would you feel the need to grace us with your presence, we are certainly not fit for such holiness. 

Tommy hummed in pretend thought and faced towards the sun, quickly fading over the horizon. He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he thought of a reply. _Why are they asking so many goddamn questions? Shouldn't they just be happy someone has filled their_ _‘_ _God'_ _role?_ He ranted bitterly and tried to not let his emotions show on his face. 

He is trying to copy what Techno might do... well, it's quite hard when you haven't seen the stupid pig for a year or two--how long has it been? Probably since the Antarctic Empire. 

Whatever, fuck that fuckface. 

“I saw room for humbleness; you all can change your ways and rid of the humane evil that consumes people when their faith is weak.” 

Now he was just spewing out whatever came to mind, _he has no idea what he just said._

“The word is evil, but if you carry faith within you—and don’t let go--I'll be with you in your darkest hour, I'll give you the strength you need to carry on, live on. 

“I’ll never give up on you--” 

_I’ll_ _never give up on_ _L’manberg_ _._

“I’ll forgive you--” 

_Who’s_ _there to forgive?_ _I’m_ _sure as hell not_ _forgiving them._ _.. dirty green bastard-_

“Even if I will never forget.” 

_Forget_ _wh_ _at_ _?_ _What am I even saying?_

“You’ll figure out the life ahead if you’ll let me help guide you.” 

_I’m_ _confusing myself..._

They cheered, _I guess_ _that’s_ _a good sign,_ and Quinn, relieved, backed up with the other cloaked people. 

**Author's Note:**

> Fuck, ahah, my writing is so inferior to others- pleaseletmepassawaynow


End file.
